


No Spoonful of Sugar

by spicystrawberries



Category: Naruto
Genre: Autoimmune disease, Corporal Punishment, Family, Fluff, Fugaku is not pleased, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Needles, No Uchiha Massacre, Shisui is worried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicystrawberries/pseuds/spicystrawberries
Summary: He hated doing that to Itachi. But he'd do anything in exchange for a healthy boyfriend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I'm really sorry about all the grammatical errors.

Inviting himself to his clan leader’s household was quite a serious offence. Shisui was sure his parents would murder him if they found out, but that didn’t stop him from walking down the long corridors in the direction of the only room with light spilling through its _fusuma_. Itachi’s house used to be silent most of the time, so hearing so many voices coming from the same place made Shisui feel a tiny bit intimidated.

He knew how important dinner time had become for Itachi. He would never stop talking about it, of how much it pleased him to share his day with his family. Ever since Sasuke had become a genin, finding time to spend together at any other hour was almost impossible, and now he had started taking missions that required travelling to other countries. They barely saw each other.

So, when he recognized Sasuke’s voice, Shisui hesitated for a second while standing in front of the door. He didn’t want to ruin Itachi’s quality time with his family. He had to force himself to remember Itachi lying in a hospital bed, pale and motionless, to regain his determination. He wasn’t about to allow that to happen ever again.

“Who’s there?” Fugaku asked and hearing the smile in his voice gave Shisui enough courage to slide the _fusuma_ open with one swift movement.

“Excuse my interrupting,” Shisui said, bowing his head immediately. “My deepest apologies for bothering you at this hour, sir.”

“Shisui!” Sasuke exclaimed, but Shisui didn’t look his way. He kept his head down, his eyes fixed on the tatami floor, and realized that Itachi’s little brother was apparently the only one shocked to see him there. That made him relax a little.

“Stop that, Shisui,” Fugaku said after a few seconds. His words were so heavy with affection that Shisui felt the tip of his ears get warm. “Come and take a seat, boy. There’s more than enough food.”

Shisui lifted his head and couldn’t help feeling suddenly shy. It always happened to him when he was with Itachi’s family, even after all the times he’d already joined them for dinner. It wasn’t like him, and he hated it. He made his best to try and stay serious, fighting the endeared smile that tried to make its way into his face after realizing that Sasuke was pouting slightly.

“I’m sorry, sir, but…”

“No sir,” Fugaku chided, frowning slightly. That expression usually intimidated Shisui a lot, but since Fugaku still had the shadow of a smile on his lips, he managed to stay calm. “I’ve already asked you many times to drop the formalities.”

Shisui took in a deep breath and forbade himself from showing how flustered he was. He needed to convey how serious was the reason behind his sudden visit, and he didn’t want Itachi to think he wasn’t angry at him. He kept his shoulders squared and walked in the room.

“I need to talk to Itachi.”

Fugaku seemed to sense that something wasn’t right, because this time his frown was authentic. He gave him a onceover.

“I figured so,” Fugaku commented distractedly. His attention was focused on Shisui’s ruined uniform now, and Shisui felt like dying of embarrassment. He regretted deeply not changing his clothes before heading there. “You’ve just arrived from your last mission, right? You better have gone to get your check-up before coming here, young man.”

One could only count on Fugaku Uchiha to make Shisui, a nineteen-year-old elite jōnin, feel like a little kid.

“Of course, sir,” Shisui said, and almost chocked when Fugaku sent a disapprobatory glare his way after hearing the word sir again. “That’s where I’m coming from. And that’s precisely why I have to talk to Itachi.”

“Well, go on, then,” Fugaku nodded in Itachi’s direction. “I think he’s starting to get a little impatient. He’s been unusually quiet since you came in. I must warn you, that’s exactly what Mikoto does before making a fuss.”

Mikoto, the only person in the entire village with permission to slap Fugaku Uchiha on his arm and have no consequences, made good use of her privilege. The room was filled by the very unusual sound of Fugaku’s laugh, and Shisui had to take a deep breath.

He didn’t want to get Itachi in trouble. He didn’t want to ruin the precious moment he was having with his family. And he didn’t want to interfere with his clan’s leader good humor.

But Itachi had to learn his lesson. And talking to him in private had evidently not worked at all, judging by the questionable decisions he’d taken in his absence.

“Shisui,” Itachi called, yanking Shisui out of his thoughts with his velvety and familiar voice. Shisui held his breath and tensed up before giving up his efforts not to look at Itachi and slowly turning his head his way, bracing himself to see the only pair of eyes that could make him melt.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Hiss heart fluttered as much as it always did when he was met by Itachi’s sparkling and lovely black eyes, which beamed so much that Shisui didn’t need to see a smile to feel how content he was.  Itachi’s hair was still wet from a shower, and the corners of his lips were barely curled up in the tiniest smile. His gaze was as sharp and observing as ever. His skin had its habitual tone, slightly warmer than his brother’s, and his cheeks were tinted a soft and healthy pink because of the warmth of the room.

He looked gorgeous.

Shisui couldn’t help a blush from creeping up his face this time. But he really tried to force it down. And then he gulped after noticing that he’d been holding his breath.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Shisui hissed, making sure to sharpen his voice. Even he shuddered at hearing it. Itachi’s smile dropped immediately, as well as the color in his cheeks. “Did you think I would forget about it because I was away on a mission?”

It was like cutting the mood with a kunai. An unsettling and cold silence fell upon the entire family, and its four members looked deeply disconcerted. Shisui felt guilty, but Itachi’s attempt at pretending to be confused made him angrier.

“Don’t you dare to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, Itachi,” Shisui said, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Tsunade-sama told me you didn’t go to your appointment at the hospital a week ago. You never forget your meetings, so there’s no way you can convince me that you forgot about it.”

Fugaku and Mikoto understood immediately. Their eyes lit up with displeasure and worry, respectively.

“A week?” Mikoto repeated. “Itachi, you went to that mission in the woods three days ago. You spent the night there. Did you do that knowing that you hadn’t gone the hospital for your treatment?”

“I won’t tolerate this attitude, Itachi. Not even from you,” Fugaku said, his voice dangerously low. There was no sign of his smile anymore. “I never ask you about your treatment because I have always deemed you old and smart enough to deal with that by yourself. Now I see that I might be mistaken.”

Itachi didn’t say a word and refused to look at his father. He still had his eyes on Shisui’s. His were burning with shame and betrayal. Sasuke was looking at everyone, still confused, and his parents’ displeasure started to rub on him.

“What is wrong, Itachi?” Sasuke asked, but Itachi ignored him. “I thought you were okay now. The doctor said so.”

“He is okay, Sasuke,” Shisui clarified hastily, knowing that otherwise Sasuke would start getting distraught. He didn’t want him to feel bad, he didn’t have the fault. “But Tsunade-sama said he needed a preventive treatment. His condition makes him vulnerable, and even the mildest infection can become something as serious as his pneumonia from last month. This is not optional, she gave him strict orders to follow the prescription.”

“That’s why Tsunade-sama told me about it personally,” Fugaku muttered, mostly for himself. Like he was just realizing something. “At that moment I couldn’t understand why she was doing that. She must have suspected from the beginning that your stubbornness would drive you to be stupid enough not to follow her orders. It was negligent of me not to have taken note of that.”

“I’m fine,” Itachi protested, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. As if he were the one who needed to find his patience, and not his entire family. “I don’t need any special treatment. I know how to take care of myself, and what happened last month was an isolated case. There was an epidemic. It will not happen again.

“There’s no way you can know that for sure, Itachi,” Shisui said, narrowing his eyes. “You can’t decide when the next epidemic will break out. And, sorry to break this to you, but you have an autoimmune disease. You do need a special treatment.”

It was like dumping a bucket of cold water on Itachi. I always was when someone brought up his illness. Shisui hated douing that, because he despised that disease as much as it was evident that Itachi did; but that didn't mean he would just allow him to pretend it didn’t exist.

Itachi’s shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly, and Shisui felt a tight knot forming in his stomach.

“Nothing is up to discussion when it comes to your health, Itachi,” Fugaku said. “You know that. There’s no other option than be obedient.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, love,” Mikoto said, barely a whisper. She already looked as distraught as she could be. “You’re just as competent as any other elite shinobi. You only need to take better care of yourself.”

Sasuke remained silent, staring at his empty plate. Shisui imagined it had to be very hard for him, to decide whether he wanted to side up with his parents or his brother. He did not doubt that Sasuke would have behaved in the same way if he’d been on Itachi’s place, or even done something dumber. His pride was as twice as big as Itachi’s.

Though, to be fair, Itachi wasn’t nearly that prideful in most situations. Only delicate matters concerning his health could bring up that side of him. And also, the strict side of Shisui.

“Don’t you see how much you make us worry, Itachi?” Shisui continued, softening his voice. “We love you. You think that by acting like nothing happened you are sparing us from your burden, but you’re only hurting us. We want to see you healthy, alive. Not suffering in a hospital bed.”

Itachi finally looked down, his face slowly regaining its color. His eyes, radiant with joy barely a pair of minutes before, were now filled with sorrow and shame. He could be very stubborn when he proposed, but he was way too intelligent to continue a discussion he knew he was going to lose. His love for his family was his greatest weakness.

“I’m sorry,” Itachi said finally, his shoulders drooping. “I’ll go tomorrow to the hospital. I promise.”

“No, you won’t spend a single night more like this,” Fugaku declared, startling Shisui and Itachi. They both looked at him with wide eyes. “You have your medicine, right? Go take it and wait for me in your bedroom. In this second. I don’t want to hear one single complaint. Understood?”

“But father—”

“Not. One. Complaint,” Fugaku warned, without blinking, and for some reason Sasuke was the one who seemed to get the most uneasy because of this.

“Just go, Itachi,” Sasuke said. “Father is not in the mood.”

Then Shisui remembered that Sasuke was the one who was always in trouble, ever since he’d been assigned in that team with the Hokage’s son, and had to contain a smile. It made sense that Sasuke was the one more familiarized with the point in which his father obviously would take no more unruliness.

“Let’s go, Itachi,” Shisui whispered, making his way around the small table to get to Itachi’s side. He sneaked his hand into his and pulled him to stand up. “If you behave, I might even ask your parents for permission to spend the night here. To keep an eye on you.”

“You don’t need permission, Shisui—” Mikoto started, but Shisui threw her a significant look. Then she understood and smiled softly. “—I mean, yes. There’s no permission for Shisui to stay over if you don’t have your medicine first, Itachi.”

That small act would’ve normally made Itachi smile, but not that day. Shisui’s heart clenched painfully when he noticed that he was still refusing to look at his eyes, even as he gently guided him towards the door. Itachi didn’t look angry, but there wasn’t even a trace of that pleased contentment he’d had in his face the first time he’d seen him. He was just as expressionless as he forced himself to be in his missions.

He didn’t try to let go of Shisui’s hand, though, and that was at least something.

           

***

 

As expected, Fugaku had some very useful knowledge about the most basic medical procedures. Like most shinobi with the jōnin rank. He didn’t hesitate for a second while he carefully mixed the antibiotic powder with the liquid solution. He didn’t look nervous at all, either.

Shisui did, though. He was sure.

Itachi didn’t seem troubled, at least not by the syringe in his father’s hands, but didn’t look any happy either. He had his head pillowed on Shisui’s lap and wouldn’t meet his eyes unless it was to glare at him whenever he accidentally pulled his hair too hard while he caressed it in a way that was supposed to be comforting.  

“This is nonsense,” Itachi complained, for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. “I already completed my antibiotic round last month. The infection is completely gone. I’m just fine.”

“Tsunade-sama said you were to receive this injection once a month and once a month are you going to receive it,” Fugaku replied, for the fifth time too. “Until she says otherwise. But then you’ll be starting with your vitamin shots. There’s no use in trying to avoid it.”

“But it’s so stupid,” Itachi said, and Shisui knew him well enough to recognize a whine when he heard it. “It takes so long. You’ve been preparing that injection for the last half an hour. You have more important things to do. Or we could still be at the table, peacefully conversing.”

“While I also was enjoying making fun of your brother’s second kiss,” Fugaku muttered, filling the syringe with the milky substance he’d obtained as a result. “Your health always comes first. You know it. Not only yours, but also your mother’s and Sasuke’s. And you know your attitude would be completely different if it was Sasuke who tried to skip his medication.”

 “Sasuke would _never_ need something as stupid as this for so stupidly long,” Itachi murmured bitterly, pressing his face against Shisui’s thigh. It made Shisui’s stomach flutter.

“I’m not telling you anything because I know you’re upset, and you never use inappropriate words,” Fugaku said, while he dampened a cotton ball with alcohol. “But I would mind my language if I were you.”

“I’m sorry, father,” Itachi replied right away, raising his head only to press his face against Shisui’s belly this time. “But this is nonsense and a waste of time.”

Shisui pinched his arm reprovingly. Itachi stifled a grunt against his abdomen.

“In moments like this I always remember how young you are,” Fugaku said, coming closer to them. “Worrying so much about anything that could be seen as a weakness. Not receiving the proper medical attention will make you truly weak, you’ll see.”

Fugaku tugged at the waistband of Itachi’s pants and boxers until he had uncovered his entire right buttock, and Itachi stayed awfully still. Shisui took his hand again and intertwined their fingers together for reassurance while Itachi’s father swabbed his skin with the cotton.

“Deep breath,” Fugaku instructed, and Itachi complied. That didn’t seem to help at all to relax his muscles, though. Itachi jumped a little when his father inserted the needle and, judging by the trouble Fugaku had to entirely push it in, he also tensed up as much as he could. “You’re only making this harder for yourself, Itachi. Relax. Now.”

“Just give him a second, sir,” Shisui blurted, before he could think better of what he wanted to say. Then he started drawing small circles with his free hand between Itachi’s shoulder blades and, ignoring all of his survival instincts, pressed a kiss against Itachi’s jaw. That made the younger finally relax with a sigh.

Shisui had to face Fugaku’s sidelong glare after that, though. Even as he depressed the plunger without further problems, except for Itachi’s weak protests and occasional wriggling. Fugaku didn’t blink once until there was no medication left. Then he retrieved the needle, making Itachi shudder, and firmly pressed the cotton ball against the tiny wound.

“You’ve been dating Itachi for a year now,” Fugaku said, while massaging the injection site in spite of Itachi’s grumbles. “And that concedes you the _obligation_ of stopping the formalities. But that doesn’t give you the slightest _permission_ to have the audacity to kiss him right in front of me. You’re not allowed anywhere near his mouth until you’ve got all your blood tests done and signed by the hospital.”

Shisui paled.  

Itachi stifled a snort against his thigh, because they’d already been kissing for _more_ than a year, but he quickly disguised it as a whimper. That made Fugaku massage for a little longer.

“You’re going to be sore for a few days,” Fugaku informed, though both Itachi and Shisui already knew that. “I’m not as good as the hospital nurses. But I won’t hesitate to do this again if I ever find out you tried to skip a dose again. Understood?”

Fugaku readjusted his son’s clothes, and then gave him a slight warning swat on his thigh. Itachi threw at him the same look Shisui always saw in Sasuke’s face when he was sulking, but his father didn’t seem bothered at all by it. He only gathered what he’d used and got ready to leave.

“You may stay this night, Shisui,” Fugaku said. “But you’re taking a shower first, and then borrowing some of Itachi’s clothes. That antibiotic is strong, but I won’t take any chances with any foreign bug you could be carrying with you. And. No. Kisses. I’ll know, Shisui Uchiha.”

Shisui gulped. However, as soon as the door was closed and Fugaku’s steps couldn’t be heard anymore, Itachi crawled onto Shisui’s lap and starting peppering his mouth with kisses. Whoever thought Itachi was a diligent son, was entirely wrong. He also was a terrible boyfriend, for he apparently wanted Shisui to get murdered.

He tried to stop him by holding his shoulders, but Itachi fixed him with a murderous look.

“You so stubbornly insisted on making that needle go in my rear,” Itachi whispered, just as dangerously as his father. “I might as well enjoy every single privilege I may obtain from that. Sharing germs is only one of them.”

“Did it hurt that much, my love?” Shisui asked, but the only answer he got were more tiny kisses. Itachi could be a rebel, but he was the cautious kind of rebel. Shisui could only comply and nuzzle him, trying to help his irritation go away. Though he suspected that would take a few days.

He sighed.

Well.

At least he would most likely have a very healthy boyfriend for that month. No hospital beds. No distressed family.

Only a very murderous father-in-law.

           


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the grammatic!

Shisui knew feeling the agitated pounding of his heart against his back was stressing Itachi out. He could tell because Itachi wouldn’t stop squirming in his arms, with an unpleased scowl creasing that pretty face of his. But Shisui just couldn’t help it. Hell, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel annoyed because of how unusually childish his boyfriend was behaving. He was too worried for that. So, instead of trying to calm himself down, he opted for squeezing Itachi a little tighter. Which Itachi didn’t appreciate, at all.

Itachi was short of breath, and that was somehow good because it meant he didn’t have the strength to peel Shisui away from him, but bad because each tiny unsteady puff of air that left his lips made Shisui feel like he would faint from lack of oxygen himself. Tsunade-sama seemed to take notice of this, because she turned her attention to Shisui for a few seconds to try and coax him into taking deep breaths while caressing his cheek, with a frown of her own.

“Look closely, Sakura,” Tsunade-sama said, and the cute pink-haired girl she had brought with her blinked her large green eyes at Shisui. “This is very common. Sometimes it’s not the patient who gets the most anxious, but the person who is accompanying them. Parents are your main concern, they can be a pain in the ass. Mother-hen-boyfriends, on the other hand, are a lot more docile.”

As if to prove her point, Tsunade-sama gave Shisui a slight slap on the cheek a  _tiny bit_ too rough to be a love tap. Shisui succeeded into sucking a deep breath in then, only so he would be able to let a proper whine escape his lips while he pressed his cheek against Itachi’s, trying to soothe the sting. It didn’t help. Itachi’s skin was too warm for that. And it earned him one more smack from Tsunade-sama, this time on his thigh.

“Do you want to get sick as well, Shisui?” Tsunade-sama narrowed her eyes at him. “Bacterial infections are highly contagious. No breath sharing.”

“So, it’s an infection?” Shisui started to hyperventilate again, and this time it was little bitty Sakura who put him back in his place with a hearty flick of her wrist. Well, wasn’t she worthy of her mentor’s affection. Tsunade-sama even patted her head approvingly, a soft smile gracing her lips. Sakura beamed.

“Yes, it is,” Tsunade-sama said, while returning her full attention to Itachi. Disapproval slowly took over her delicate features once more. “But, luckily, it’s barely beginning. His symptoms are not serious yet. You called me right on time, Fugaku. He’ll be just fine, there’s no need for him to spend the night in the hospital.”

Shisui looked at Fugaku for the first time since Tsunade-sama had entered the room. Itachi’s father was leaning against the door frame, eyes trained on his oldest son, and the look in his face made Shisui shudder. He wasn’t even blinking. No matter how hard Itachi and Sasuke tried to match his glare, they just would never get right the spine-chilling feeling his dark eyes conveyed. He didn’t even need to scowl, like Itachi was doing. His tightly set jaw said everything.

Itachi was in trouble.

“My deepest apology for bothering you with this, Tsunade-sama,” Fugaku said, and his shoulders barely shifted as he took in a deep breath. Mortals would not be able to tell, but Shisui had spent more than enough time with Itachi’s family as not to recognize relief hiding in his clan leader’s posture. “I would have never expected something like this from Itachi. I wish I hadn’t reacted as impulsively as I did when I called for you. If I had known, I would have waited until you were truly available.”

Tsunade-sama shook her head slowly.

“Don’t mention it, Fugaku. It was good you told me about this,” Tsunade-sama said, looking seriously into his eyes. She truly was a legendary shinobi. To meet the murderous eyes of a worried sick father… “Itachi is going to be okay precisely because you found out he was sick on time. Waiting one more day could have worsened his condition drastically. You took the right decision.”

Itachi stiffened in Shisui’s arms. Though he didn’t make a sound, Shisui knew that the conversation was driving him crazy. He deeply respected Tsunade-sama and his father, so he hadn’t said a single word so far, but Shisui knew he hated it when people acted like he wasn’t there. Fugaku evidently knew that too, since he had purposely babied Itachi by explaining Tsunade-sama all of his symptoms like he was some five-year-old.

“Besides, this is the time I usually spend on training Sakura, so it wasn’t entirely lost,” Tsunade-sama said. “I’m sure she’s learned a lot in this visit. It’s the first time I let her see one of my patients with me. Speaking of which—”

Tsunade-sama took Itachi’s chin in one of her hands and Itachi obediently opened his mouth, though he made sure to show how unhappy he was by drawing his eyebrows together. Tsunade-sama didn’t seem to mind, she only tilted his head back, so the light of the room would allow her to have a better look at his throat.

“Have a look, Sakura,” Tsunade-sama instructed. “Though it’s not that bad, you can clearly appreciate the irritation.”

Sakura, whose eyes had been lit with fierce determination since the very moment she’d walked into the room, looked a little shy all of sudden. Tsunade-sama’s raised eyebrow was all it took to bully her into getting closer, though. She still looked unsure as she stood in front of Itachi, and Shisui just had to smile at her encouragingly because she was adorable.

He didn’t miss that Itachi’s glare softened a little, and that he relaxed his muscles. It made Shisui hide a smile against his shoulder, and Sakura perk up with hopeful look. Then, as Itachi moved a little so it would be easier for her to see, her entire face lit up, and Shisui decided he wanted to adopt her.

 She was Itachi’s baby brother’s teammate, after all. It made sense that even when grumpy Itachi would have a soft spot for her. It was just the same with Sasuke, always.

“His tonsils are just slightly swollen,” Tsunade-sama continued, as Sakura carefully took a peek inside Itachi’s mouth. “This is perfectly treatable with oral antibiotics for normal patients. For disobedient and uncooperative brats like Itachi who can’t afford the risk of a worsening illness aggravating their delicate condition, on the other hand, we use injections.  _Painful_ injections, with a thick solution, and a long needle.”

Sakura grimaced, but had the sensibility of looking away and biting his lip sympathetically. Shisui felt Itachi tensing up against him again.

“That way you ensure each dose is delivered. Or, well, at least it  _should_ be like that,” Tsunade-sama said, narrowing her eyes. “When you have the misfortune of having a stubborn genius as a patient, though, it can be still impressively hard to achieve it. So, you need to get the family and into the picture.”

Tsunade-sama took a moment to rub her temples.

“Not that  _that_ seemed to help in this case,” She sighed. “It was incredibly stupid what you did, Itachi. You’re very lucky your father was keeping an eye on you, because I specifically  _asked_ him to. Who knows for how long you were planning on hiding that fever.”

Shisui tried to nuzzle Itachi, feeling a knot forming in his throat. He was upset with him too, yes, but he just didn’t like hearing someone scolding him. Itachi, like Tsunade-sama had said, was a  _genius._ He was perfect. Obedient. It felt so wrong to hear someone as important as a sannin reprimanding him like that. It wasn’t fair.

“Um—,” Sakura ventured, with her head slightly cocked. “Itachi-san was supposed to get an injection two weeks ago precisely to prevent this from happening, right, shishō? But he— he somehow managed not to get it this month.”

“Exactly,” Tsunade-sama nodded. “It’s ideal to avoid even the mildest illnesses like this one. I’m relieved it’s just this, though, and not a much aggressive form of it. This can be treated with the same antibiotic he was supposed to have fifteen days ago, because it’s very strong. It’ll get rid of the infection in a blink. I’ll be giving that to you now, Itachi, where do you have it?”

“There’s no need, Tsunade-sama,” Fugaku intervened. “I don’t want to bother you taking away more of your time. I’ll do it. I still remember the first aid training we received when we became jōnin.”

“Are you sure?” Tsunade-sama asked, looking just slightly uncertain.

“I was the one who injected him last month. And I  _did_ promise him I would do it again if he dared to skip a dose again,” Fugaku insisted. “I definitely don’t have your ability, Tsunade-sama, but I really don’t wish to importunate you any longer. You should be spending your time teaching this young lady, not dealing with Itachi. And he already had his chance to have you injecting him, which would have hurt a lot less, but he let it slip away.”

“It’s not a problem—” Sakura started, but Tsunade-sama interrupted her.

“Well, I was actually planning on introducing her to the taijutsu lessons—”

Now Sakura was the one who interrupted her, with an excited whoop. Then she blushed, a little, and looked deeply ashamed of herself for not being able to force herself to go on with her polite insistence. Tsunade-sama smiled, almost devilishly.

“Then we’re done here,” Fugaku decided, crossing his arms over his chest. “I want to thank you again for coming over, Tsunade-sama. Don’t worry about Itachi. Actually, I think it would be better if I was the one administering his medicine every month from now on. He’s been misconducting just too much.”

“That could work,” Tsunade-sama nodded, standing up from where she had been sitting next to Itachi’s bed. “You and Mikoto know your son better than anyone, Fugaku. Outsmarting me and the hospital personal might be easy for him, but I’m sure he’ll have a lot of trouble trying to do the same with you two. It’s definitely a good idea.”

Tsunade-sama and Fugaku left the room, Sakura trailing before them, and Shisui heard Fugaku vehemently insist for Tsunade-sama to accept something. A generous amount of money, if Tsunade-sama’s hesitant stuttering while she tried to refuse was anything to go by. Her attempt at pretending she didn’t want the money was so poor she ended up giving in after thirty seconds. Shisui counted them.

When he heard the footsteps start to fade as Fugaku led Tsunade-sama and Sakura to the main door, Shisui finally allowed himself to start cooing at his boyfriend like he’d so desperately wanted to since he’d first seen him that day. Itachi stubbornly refused to do as little as turn his head to look at him, but that didn’t discourage Shisui.

“My poor sweet pea,” Shisui mumbled against Itachi’s shoulder. “Falling victim of his own idiotic decisions. Is that why you’re this sulky, my love? Because you didn’t get away with it, like you always do with everything else? One would think you’d learned the lesson last month.”

So maybe Shisui did want to kiss Itachi’s grumpiness away, but that didn’t mean he was happy about what he’d done, and he wasn’t about to reward him when he clearly didn’t deserve it. No matter how much that hurt Shisui’s own desires.

“But it’s okay. This only means that your parents will be fussing over you as twice as before from now on, so there’s no way you’ll able to pull this again the next months,” Shisui said, now caressing Itachi’s jaw with his nose, despite his unresponsiveness. “That’s excellent news for me.”

Then he unwrapped his arms from around Itachi, wincing at how cramped they were —he’d been holding him really tight— and gave Itachi’s ponytail a gentle tug.

“Now, lay down, sweetheart,” Shisui said, hardening his voice just a little. “Your father will be back soon, and it’ll be time for you to pay for your crimes.”

Itachi elbowed him in the stomach, hard enough to take his breath away, just as Fugaku re-entered the room. Shisui coughed but made his best to recover silently, pretending that nothing had happened. Didn’t feel like explaining how he’d let his guard down only because Itachi looked inoffensive with his fever tinted cheeks, much less to his unforgiving clan leader.

“One,” Fugaku said, taking seat in the chair Tsunade-sama had been using, furious eyes piercing through Shisui’s soul even though they weren’t directed at him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t haul you over my lap in this second like you were some unruly brat your younger brother’s age, Itachi.”

Shisui’s face started burning in seconds, and he was already clumsily trying to detangle his limbs from the blankets, so he could climb down the bed and get the hell out of there, when Itachi took him firmly by his wrist. Shisui almost choked on his own air, but Itachi still didn’t spare him a single glance. No matter how insistently Shisui tugged, Itachi wouldn’t let him escape that awkward situation.

“A failed mission,” Itachi said, voice not wavering the slightest bit. Which was impressive, Shisui had to admit. He wasn’t sure he would’ve managed to sound so calm after his clan leader had threatened him like that. “There were dozens of severely injured, father. All the personal of the hospital was trying to help. They barely found some time in between to fit some patients in. Patients who were truly sick.”

“Tsunade-sama planned on giving you that injection herself,” Fugaku said, narrowing his eyes. “You weren’t in a hurry. All you had to do was wait until your turn came.”

“Tsunade-sama is the world’s greatest medical-nin. She was  _needed_ ,” Itachi replied right away, and sounded like he was making a very big effort not to grit his teeth. “I couldn’t just ask her to leave her duty only, so she could attend me. It was unnecessary.”

“Except you didn’t have to ask her  _anything,_ ” Fugaku said. “She called you in  _three times,_ Itachi. You were the one who kept telling her not to worry and go on attending the other patients. That’s why she finally decided for assigning a nurse to do it. And then you decided to go and try to  _fool_ her, a sannin, by telling her that you’d already received the injection from another nurse. Do you have  _no respect_?”

Fugaku’s voice had increased significantly by the time he ended that sentence, so he had to inhale deeply to regain his unsettling undisturbed expression. There was true anger in his eyes, though. Shisui was starting to sweat, even though he wasn’t the one in trouble.

Itachi, undoubtedly his father’s son, managed to look just as impassive, even under that frightful glare.

“It was a very bad lie,” Itachi admitted, after a few seconds. “—but she still fell for it.”

Fugaku was standing in front of Itachi in less than a blink.

Shisui had one protective arm curled around Itachi’s middle before he could stop himself, out of pure instinct. Though Fugaku looked  _very_ ready to fulfill his threat, Shisui didn’t miss that there was something new glinting in his eyes.

Incredulity.

And then Itachi went on.

“—which only proves how distracted she was, and how she had much more important matters in her head. Just as the rest of the personal,” Itachi said. “I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. They were all so busy. It was so much important than a simple preventive treatment. Even the people who were sick deserved the attention before me.”

 Some of the anger melted slowly from Fugaku’s eyes. It was replaced with deep, painful frustration, and Shisui couldn’t blame him. The man didn’t make an effort into maintaining his menacing posture, he only rubbed his face with both hands and stood in silence for a few minutes, as if wondering how in the name of hell he should proceed after hearing that.

“You’re my son, Itachi,” Fugaku said, finally, and it evidently took Itachi by surprise, judging the way he held his breath. “Do you have the slightest idea of how mad I felt when I realized you had a fever? How much it—” He cut himself off. Shisui suspected he had been about to say he had been  _terrified._ “How utterly frightening it was to think that you’d gotten sick even though you’d received your treatment?”

Itachi looked down for the first time since Shisui had arrived, and he had gotten there  _hours_ before Tsunade-sama. He evidently hadn’t had  _that_ in mind. It didn’t surprise Shisui at all. Itachi could be the most insolent brat when something was about defending other people’s wellbeing and rights. When something was about him, though, he never seemed to know how to react.

“You think what you did was right because you were putting everyone before you, like you always do,” Fugaku continued. “But things don’t work like that. You’re young, Itachi. You’re a  _kid._ You can’t go around thinking that everyone deserves to have preferences over you only because you’re an elite shinobi. You can’t protect anyone if you’re not protecting yourself first.”

He sounded almost defeated. Shisui understood why. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that conversation with Itachi.

“But though you are indeed a gentle child, I  _know_ that wasn’t the only reason behind your disobedience,” Fugaku said, and Shisui felt Itachi’s muscles tense so much it had to be painful. “Fifteen days. You could’ve gone back any other day to get it. Or, if the idea of admitting you’d lied was just too unbearable for you, you could have asked me to inject you again.”

“You were busy training with Sasuke. The chunin exams are—”

“We have been having dinner together for the past two weeks, Itachi,” Fugaku cut him short. “Every single night. It doesn’t matter how busy were we all these days. You had more than one chance.”

This time, Itachi remained quiet. And Shisui’s breath became shaky with anxiety.

“Shisui,” Fugaku said, after a few minutes of silence, voice gentler than Shisui would’ve expected. Only then did he dare to look straight at him. “Allow me to have a few words with Itachi, alone. It would be really helpful if you could prepare his medicine meanwhile. He stores it in the first aid kit. You know where that is, right?”

Itachi’s grip on his wrist relaxed then, but he still didn’t say a word. Shisui looked at him, feeling a little unsure, but Itachi only nudged him weakly to stand up. Though Shisui tried really hard to see his eyes while he complied, Itachi didn’t let him. Not yet.

“Yes, uncle,” Shisui replied, reluctantly. And then he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so hardd to write so many characters in one scene! I'm sorry if something was confusing because even I got confused sometimes, and ik that no everyone gets to talk enough but asdsd I need to practice this a lot.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter is full of fluff. I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the grammatical errors!
> 
> Also, this chapter contains (implies?) corporal punishment. It wasn't supposed to, but it happened, so 🤷🏻

The kitchen was considerably far away from Itachi’s room, and Fugaku wasn’t yelling at all, but the house was so awfully silent that Shisui could still hear almost everything. He cringed and swallowed every time he distinguished the unmistakable sound of a hand connecting hard against thin-fabric covered skin, shoulders shaking just slightly while he tried to concentrate on his own task. That happened just a few times, though. Most of what he heard were parts of the lecture.

“There are _limits_ for selflessness, Itachi. And you’ve _unabashedly—”_ Another slap. “—crossed them. Many times. And you’ve also been scolded—” Again. “ _Many times,_ for doing that. By this point it’s just as if you were trying to prove you have an enormous lack of respect for authority.”

“I’m sorry, father.”

That was the only thing that would come out of Itachi’s mouth. No grunts. No groans, no whines, no complaints at all. His voice didn’t even tremble as he dutifully accepted his punishment, not bothering even once into trying to dissuade his father from continuing to administer it. It was unnerving. Almost like he was accepting it only because he thought it would help his father feel reassurance.

Fugaku also seemed to sense that.

“That’s not what I need to hear,” Fugaku said. “Stop saying what you _think_ I want to hear, Itachi. You’ve told me you’re sorry too many times. You’ve made me start to doubt whether I still should trust your words as unquestioningly as I’ve always done.”

Shisui had to put the syringe down on the counter for a few seconds so he could take in a deep breath and try to stop the tremor that had extended to his hands. These were words that perhaps would mean nothing for a truly rebellious son, but this was _Itachi._ His heart ached just at imagining how _badly_ they’d probably hurt him as soon as they'd left his father’s mouth.

Another, much, much tinier « _I’m sorry_ » followed, almost drowned in unspilled tears. Shisui felt like crying himself and had to bury his fingers in his thighs and bit hard on his lower lip to control himself. It was necessary. Itachi needed to hear that. Fugaku was not trying to hurt him, he was saying what he deemed it would take for Itachi to realize how unacceptably he’d behaved.

“You’ve never lied regarding official matters,” Fugaku said. “I can’t understand what could possibly drive you to lie when it’s about _yourself._ ”

There was a small pause. While Fugaku waited for Itachi to answer, Shisui managed to regain control over his nervousness and started to draw up the antibiotic into the syringe with much steadier hands. He was going to cover Itachi in kisses as soon as they were alone. He was going to cuddle him into _oblivion._ He’d bribe Sasuke into bringing dango when he came back from training, and he’d feed it to Itachi until he passed out of sugar overdose.

 “You—” Fugaku said, this time raising his voice to a booming level that made it feel almost like he was right in the kitchen, hand coming down in a slap much more resounding than the previous ones. “Are— just— as— important— as— any— mission!”

The sudden barrage of swats accompanying that sentence took Shisui so badly by surprise he almost dropped the syringe to the floor. Fugaku hadn’t been delivering more than two every four or five sentences, so that definitely caught him off guard. His heart raced in his chest, and he wished little Sakura was there to remember him how to breathe.

He composed himself when he heard something that sounded like muffled sniffles, protective instinct finally kicking in. He had to force it down his throat, because there was _no way_ he was going to interrupt such an important lecture when he didn’t even have arguments to defend Itachi with, but it at least helped him to finish preparing the medicine with no further problems. Dissipated nervousness was a great relief.  

“There’s no doubt you’re strong,” Fugaku continued. “But you have to understand strength and intelligence can do nothing against a chronic illness.”

Shisui decided for wrapping some ice inside a dishcloth as well. Itachi’d been so sore last time he’d even had trouble finding a position to sleep, so maybe that’d help to make him feel a little less uncomfortable. Then he gathered the ice, the cotton, the little bottle of alcohol and the syringe and leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, listening attentively at Fugaku’s voice.

“It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human,” Fugaku said. “Asking for help won’t kill you. Admitting you’re not feeling okay won’t kill you. Complaining because you _don’t want_ a needle and absolutely _hate_ people fussing over you won’t kill you, though it won’t save you from receiving your treatment either. Being secretive and lying, however, _that_ could lead to a life-threatening situation.”

A muffled sob. Very clearly not from Fugaku.

“No matter how hard you try to act like nothing will happen if you decide to ignore your condition,” Fugaku said, voice much gentler. “It won’t make the disease go away, Itachi. And it’ll only interfere with your performance. Would you like that? To reach a point in which there’s no going back and you’ll have to be forced to renounce to your obligations? Because that’s undoubtedly what’s going to happen if this attitude doesn’t stop.”

Small pause.

“You can tell me,” Fugaku almost whispered. “It won’t do any harm if I arrive just a few minutes earlier from work, once a month, if you _ask me_ to. So I can inject you before dinner. So you won’t have to feel guilty over claiming my attention, though that’s ridiculous. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll do it. You’re my son.”

Shisui turned off the lights in the kitchen and headed off to Itachi’s room, padding softly along the corridor.

“You scared me this morning, Itachi.”

This time, it was a whisper. Shisui could only hear that because he was already standing in front of Itachi’s door, but he didn’t say anything just yet. He waited. Two, three, five minutes, and then decided for announcing he was there. There was some rustle as someone shifted on the bed, and it took two more minutes before Fugaku told him to come in.

Shisui’s heart melted at the sight of Itachi, laying belly down on the bed, eyes glistening with tears while he desperately tried to put the strands of hair that were sticking to his face back to their place. There were still wet trails on his cheeks and he was doing his breathing exercises, very clearly trying to force down the sounds that threatened to escape his mouth. He was still avoiding his gaze.

Fugaku was sitting in front of him, in the chair. He nodded to Shisui to thank him silently when he gave him the things he carried with him.

As Fugaku soaked the cotton ball in alcohol, Shisui went straight to the bed to claim his place. He took Itachi gently by his shoulders and guided him to lay his head on his lap, burying his fingers into his hair and caressing his scalp with his fingertips. Itachi finally looked up directly at him for a few seconds, eyes so full of remorse he didn’t even need to say anything for Shisui to understand.

“Itachi,” Shisui whined, feeling like he would die of love. He didn’t say anything either, he knew Itachi could tell that he wasn’t angry at him at all only by looking into his eyes.   

Then Itachi closed his eyes tightly and buried his face against Shisui’s thigh when his father tugged at his waistband to expose his skin . He didn’t hold back a small, very disgruntled sound as his father rubbed his skin with the cotton, Shisui took his hand and squeezed it in an attempt to comfort him.

“Prick,” Fugaku informed, as he stuck the needle in. Itachi shuddered and managed to stay still for a few seconds, but jerked when his father pushed the needle deeper in. Fugaku scolded him and held him into place with his free hand, frowning. “Don’t be difficult, Itachi. It’s obviously going to hurt if you don’t make any effort to unclench. I can’t do anything about it.”

Itachi raised his head just slightly and Shisui felt his warm tears as they fell. He didn’t make any commentaries on it, because it was obvious Itachi was embarrassed, but used his sleeves to wipe them away. He wasn’t surprised, Itachi’d never reacted too well to chiding. It made sense it would made him cry a little when he was already feeling so emotional.

A few whimpers left Itachi’s lips as Fugaku pressed down the plunger, and he also made an impatient sound when he noticed his father was taking longer as usual.

“I’m trying to do it slow, so it won’t hurt as much later,” Fugaku said, tone still a little stern. “It’s uncomfortable now but doing it fast would only make it worse. Will you stop struggling? You’re going to break the needle.”

When he finally finished and took the needle out, he gave Itachi a smack on the side he hadn’t injected before pressing the cotton against the puncture and massaging perhaps a little roughly at first. Then he inhaled deeply and started doing gentler, after noticing that Itachi was stifling his whines against Shisui’s uniform.

“If it was _that_ awful then don’t ever give me a reason again to give you a _warm up_ before injecting you,” Fugaku said. “That’s what you get when you decide to behave like a kid.”

He also massaged for longer than he’d do the last time, Shisui noticed. He even left his hand resting over the injection site when he finished, while he used his free hand to put the syringe away. After that, he stared for a long time at Shisui, eyes narrowed, like he was deeming whether he was worthy or something, and it made Shisui very, very nervous, because he didn’t even know if he’d done something wrong. Maybe it was because he hadn’t comforted Itachi yet? But Fugaku’d made it very clear the last time that he didn’t want to see his lips practically anywhere near his son while he was present and—

“Shisui,” Fugaku said, yanking him out of his thoughts.

“Yessir— uncle?” He asked, and Fugaku only stared at him for a few more seconds.

“Massaging the injection site—” Fugaku sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “ _Gently_ from time to time is good for absorption and to reduce swelling.”

Then he opened his eyes again, and the death glare he gave Shisui chilled him to the core.

“This is in _no way_ a grant of permission to _fondle_ my son whenever you please,” Fugaku growled. “And if you don’t think I’ll find out if you dare to try and use this in your favor—”

“Father,” Itachi complained, looking back at him with accusing eyes.

Fugaku sighed.

“Just do it for a few seconds every so often,” Fugaku said, pulling Itachi’s clothes back to their place. “It’ll help with the pain, just as well as the ice. That was smart of you.”

 That seemed like a compliment. But the way his father-in-law said it, and the murderous look he was directing at him, made Shisui feel like he’d just killed someone. He managed to give back an awkward smile, though. He’d never said no to massaging Itachi’s cute—

The murderous intent intensified, and Shisui stopped that thread of thought and gulped.

“Every so often,” Shisui said, nodding. “No staring. No lingering longer than necessary. No complimenting. No enjoying it—”

“ _Understood,”_ Itachi grumbled. Shisui smiled at him sheepishly.

“This situation is _not_ repeating itself ever again,” Fugaku said, threaten implicit in his voice. “Consider this your last warning, Itachi. I’ll be taking more drastic measures if you even dare to try and—”

“I won’t, I swear,” Itachi said, sniffling and wincing as he sat up to look at his father directly, eyes serious. “I swear.”

Fugaku’s entire demeanor relaxed, softened by relief.

“Good,” Fugaku said, taking everything Shisui’d brought in for the injection. “I need to leave for work. I’m already late, so I will have to stay longer than usual. Your mother should be back today but, if she doesn’t, I’ll be back before midnight anyway. You _make me know_ if you start feeling worse. Understood?”

Itachi nodded, rubbing his face with both hands and giving a deep sigh. Fugaku stood up, and Shisui gave him a respectful nod when he looked at him significantly.

“I’ll take care of him, uncle.”

“Good,” Fugaku said again.

“Father,” Itachi called, just as Fugaku turned to leave. When he looked back, one eyebrow raised, Itachi just gave a nod too. “Thank you.”

Fugaku didn’t say anything, but there was the ghost of a smile on his lips as he left the room.

 

Cooing at Itachi was one of Shisui’s favorite couple activities, simply because Itachi’d always scrunch his nose in utter disgust in that adorable way of his. Best thing was he’d never tried to stop him, whether because he _knew_ Shisui wouldn’t stop or because he internally liked it. Maybe not the cooing itself, but the _constant praising._

“Look at your eyelashes,” Shisui whispered against his cheek. “You’d die in the way I do if you could feel them brushing against your cheek whenever you blink.”

“I _do feel_ them brushing against my own cheeks, you kn—”

Shisui shushed him, frowning and closing his eyes.

“Not nearly as satisfying,” He said, and felt the movement of Itachi’s cheek as the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. It made Shisui smile even wider. “You’re still a little warm, love. Maybe you should take a shower?”

Itachi grumbled and readjusted Shisui’s hand, which was holding the cloth covered ice against his hip. Then he burrowed deeper into his arms, forehead resting against his collarbone, making very clear how unwilling he was to renounce to his comfort. Shisui only sighed, and then Itachi took the improvised ice pack from his hand and placed it against his forehead, wetting Shisui’s uniform in the process.

“Will you stop complaining now?” Itachi asked, raising both eyebrows at him. The presumptuous little bastard. Shisui rolled his eyes.

“Very smart, sweet pea,” He said, and then he gave his sore butt cheek a small disapproving pat. “But now this is going to hurt. Is it really worth it? Taking a shower is much faster.”

“Then you’ll just have to rub it,” Itachi shrugged, taking Shisui’s hand when he tried to remove it and placing it back over the spot. “How unfortunate, don’t you think?”

Shisui snorted when Itachi pressed his hand more firmly against the injection site, demanding, when he didn’t react at first. Then he complied, trying not to be rough, but Itachi’s factions scrunched up in discomfort and pain at first anyway. It took a few seconds for him to relax, and to melt against Shisui like he was spaghetti.

“How inconvenient indeed,” Shisui said. “I don’t think I’m not enjoying it. Your father is going to murder me.”

“Did you know father only gave me five slaps on that side?” Itachi said, unexpectedly, taking Shisui by surprise. When Shisui finally processed the words, he looked down at Itachi, blinking curiously. “They were the last ones, and probably the _hardest_ too, but still that side didn’t hurt nearly as much as the other one. Like he’d planned from the beginning on which side he was going to give me the medicine.”

Shisui smiled fondly, almost adoringly. _Of course Itachi’d been analyzing every small detail._

“Well, he’s your father,” Shisui said. “He _does_ love you. Doesn’t he?”

Itachi closed his eyes and let out a tormented sigh.

“I was a fool,” Itachi said. “For having ever thought he somehow worried about me out of _pity._ That everyone did.”

Shisui felt his eyes widen. But he schooled his face into a serious expression.

“Itachi,” He chided. “You—”

“Yes, I know,” Itachi mumbled, grumpily. “I know now. I— just— I wasn’t thinking, okay?”

Shisui only sighed and pressed a kiss against Itachi’s forehead, and Itachi relaxed again in his arms.

“Well,” Shisui said. “I’ll just have to tell your family to cover you in kisses more frequently.”

Itachi choked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any ideas of anything you'd like to see if there were to be more chapters, I would gladly read them!


End file.
